Hermione's Tango
by bby1994
Summary: Hermione becomes a prostitute for the death eaters to gain information for the Order. Disguised, she works the dark streets of Knockturn Alley, gaining a loyal customer and hurting the love of her life. SongFic to "El Tango de Roxanne"


Hey y'all! Haven't posted something in a verrrryyyy long time. If you were wanting something from me then I apologize most profusely. So here's something I came up with randomly one day. I hope you like it!

Summary: Hermione becomes a prostitute for the death eaters to gain information for the Order. Disguised, she works the dark streets of Knockturn Alley, gaining a loyal customer, an invaluable source of information, hurting the love of her life, but finding someone who thrills her body and fulfills a dark need in her.

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. The characters belong to JK Rowling (brilliant bitch) and the song is from Baz Luhrman's Moulin Rouge (seriously one of the best movies I have ever seen, totally a more relatable _La Traviata_)

PS Do yourself a favor. Listen to this song. It's definitely one of the best on the track besides _Complainte de la Butte _by Rufus Wainwright.

PPS I'm sorry if the POV changes throw you off. Since the song is supposed to be the lament of a man about his unfaithful love I can't exactly keep it all in Hermione's perspective.

PPPS. I don't usually like Hermione/Ron ships. I prefer Draco/Hermione. But it worked better this way, since I wouldn't have to give you all that backstory if Draco was the one pining for Hermione. It would get too messy and take too long to write out if I did it that way, just better to stick to the traditional.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

**Hermione's POV**

The war raged everywhere. Lives, muggle and magical, were lost everyday to the fury of the dark side. Voldemort and his followers killed any who dared oppose him. It was during this time of desperation I decided to act as a spy. They tried to discourage me, claiming they had other means of getting the information, but truly, they all knew they couldn't really stop me.

Ron fought me hardest on it. He declared his love to me, and how he understood my need to make my sacrifices after so many had made the largest, that my chastity was hardly a thing to bargain with against the dark. But I had no choice, as a woman there are few tools given me, and my brains had gotten us nowhere in the last four years, and so, it was time to rely on my body.

_Roxanne, you dont have to put on that red light _

_Walk the streets for money _

_You dont care if its wrong or if it is right. _

It's not as if I needed the money from my "job", but the information could prove to be invaluable. Men can be more open or susceptible to revealing information to a woman of little importance. Of course, I would disguise myself. My hair was charmed black, my eyes a piercing grey.

_Roxanne, you dont have to wear that dress tonight. _

_Roxanne, you dont have to sell your body to the night. _

I remember my first night. My fear. My planning. After all, what would I wear? My first night I wore a green dress, with silver trimming. Much of the clientele I sought would be Slytherin after all. A short green dress, ending high above mid thigh, with silver embroidery at the bottom, snakes, enchanted to weave and entwine together at the hem. Thigh high fishnets, with impossibly tall stilettos, that made my legs go on for days.

_His eyes upon your face _

_His hand upon your hand _

_His lips caress your skin _

I know it killed Ron that I walked about like this. I loved him, just as much as he loved me. The night before I began my night business I came to him, determined to lose my virginity to the man I loved. Ron refused at first, until I threatened to simply sell my gift to the highest bidder. He caved at that.

We made love that night. Sweet and gentle, and in our shared innocence we found comfort for one night. But I left his arms before he could convince me to stay.

**Ron's POV**

_Its more than I can stand _

It killed me that she did this to herself. Every night, just as darkness began to fall, she would leave, scantily clad, to draw in any potential informants. Every morning, shortly before daybreak, she would stumble back in, smelling of sex and sweat, oftentimes bruised from the dark preferences of the death eaters. I would always wait for her. Help her up the stairs, run the bath, find the necessary salves and bandages for any bruises or open wounds.

_Roxanne _

Sometimes she would have information. Little bits about raids, or locations of camps. But more often than not, she would tell us that they were too guarded, or they didn't want to talk to her, determined for a quick release and nothing more.

_Why does my heart cry? _

It's been months, and yet I still haven't gotten used to it. I don't think I ever will. To know that she walks into the proverbial den of lions, every night, to sleep with the enemy in the small hope that she will overhear a piece of information that can help to weaken or overthrown Voldemort forever.

I've tried to convince her to give her body a rest once a week, or even a month. But she rails at me, afraid that by not going out she misses overhearing an important, life saving piece of information.

_Roxanne _

Hermione. I admit. I'm jealous of those who she is with every night. I love her, and she loves me, and yet, only they get the thrill of touching her intimately, only they can partake intimately of her beauty, and they don't even realize how lucky they are.

_Feelings I cant fight _

We haven't slept together since that night we lost our virginity to each other. I can imagine after her experiences she doesn't want the touch of a man. She comes home sore and bruised in that area, I would know, helping her to clean and heal herself every night, so that any remotely intimate touches could cause her the utmost pain in those tender areas.

_You're free to leave me _

_But just dont deceive me _

_And please _

I worry sometimes though. They say sex is an intimate act. You can't just have casual sex, although many speak otherwise. But when it comes to women, the general consensus is that their emotions become attached. I worry that she will become attached to a repeat customer. I love her, truly I do, and I would do anything to ensure her happiness, even if it means letting her go. But I simply cannot bear the thought of her falling in love with a man who repeatedly degrades her, that would willingly sleep with her, pay her, then leave her, constantly.

_Believe me when I say _

_I love you _

_Yo que te quiero tanto, que voy a hacer? _

It physically hurts me to see her walk out, night after night. I don't know how I can let her walk out every night, how I can continue to comfort her every morning.

_Me dejaste...me dejaste como una paloma _

Every night she still leaves me. Charms her hair and puts in these muggle things called _conctats_...or contacts. Something. Dresses up in one of those outfits meant to entice and arouse, turns into her animagus form, the dove, and flies away.

_El alma se me fue; se me fue el corazon _

She has my heart, and she knows it. She doesn't just have my heart, she _is_ my heart. The war has changed us all, but it has really affected Hermione the most.

_Ya no tengo ganas de vivir porque no te puedo convencer _

_Que no te vendas, Roxanne _

It gets harder to face every new day. Every morning I wake up with her exhausted body huddled in my arms, every time I try to show her affection, every kiss, every hug, she recoils, twisting from my touch on reflex before realizing I mean her no harm.

I can't convince her to stop, can't make her see how this ruins her. She insists that we need all the information we can get, but still, every night she returns distant. She says she has a regular now, with a loose tongue. Comes to her nearly every night, gifts her with expensive trinkets I could never afford, but still, his mouth runs, giving us important information to thwart the dark side at various attacks.

**Hermione's POV**

_Roxanne you dont have to put on that red light _

The war ended a few months ago and still I sell my body to the same informant. He knows who I am, but still I keep up the disguise. Every night, he owls me, begging me come to him. Ron tries to ply me away from him, but I am ruined for him. Ron deserves someone better, and I will admit I am almost in love with this man. I love the way he needs me, craves me. I love his little gifts for me, and the way that he knows exactly how to touch me to make my body sing for him. When we are together, a brush of his hand, a slight lowering of his voice is enough to set my body alight. He tells me of his possessiveness, and his covetous nature, and now he is possessive of me, of my body, how the thought of another man being able to touch me stokes a violent anger in him, threatening to rip to shreds the man I loved, very obviously implying my beloved Ron.

_Why does my heart cry? _

I still long for Ron. For his kind touches, his soft looks, his simple happiness, and easy mirth. But all of that is gone now, and it's my fault. Harry tries to reassure me, tells me the war has taken its toll on Ron, with the loss of our friends and many allies, but I know I am the reason he rarely smiles, the reason for his pain. My deception, my betrayal, has ruined his oblivious happiness.

_Feelings I cant fight _

But I can't fight these feelings for this other man. This dark stranger. He's handsome no doubt. Tall, even taller than Ron, but built strong, with broad shoulders, a ribbed stomach, and powerful arms. That along with his sexy voice, a low, rumbling timber, smooth as silk when plying, but hard as iron when commanding. He satisfied something dark in me. I loved how rough he could be with me. Taking me, as if seeking only his pleasure, but still touching me just right to bring me to my peak several times over.

**Ron's POV**

_You dont have to wear that dress tonight _

She's told me she doesn't want to stop. That this man she is involved with can provide for her. She broke my heart, telling me it's better this way. That she is ruined, and I deserve someone better than her, that I don't need a slut as my girlfriend. But I don't think she's a slut. She never could be. If she believed every encounter to be casual sex then she would have been justifiably known as a slut. But she took each violation to her body to heart. She cried over her decision every night. If anything I thought she was stronger. A little battered, but far stronger than I to undergo the abuse she did every night. She still services that other man, and I wonder if she is trying to make me hate her because she loves him. We don't even know who he is. She doesn't tell us who this repeat customer is. Only that she still goes to him because he is part of the inner circle and can give her warning should anything begin to stir again.

_Roxanne you dont have to put on that red light _

**Hermione's POV**

_Why does my heart cry? _

I can't fight these feelings for him. This man. He's threatened Ron, promised that if I stay with him he will let him live. And for some reason, I'm still hopelessly drawn to him, my body still sings for his when he lowers his voice, when his hands brush across my leg.

**Ron's POV**

_Roxanne you dont have to wear that dress tonight _

She still goes out. She tells me to move on. That she isn't worthy of me, that I deserve better, and I begin to wonder if her words are right. Maybe I should forget her, and start anew. Cherish the true love we had, but recognize it as gone.

**Mysterious Lover POV**

_Feelings I cant fight _

I don't know what has overcome me. I usually have much more restraint when it comes to women, but this beautiful woman, this siren, something about her calls to me and I can't resist it. I have an unquenchable thirst for her, a constant need to slake my lust on her, and only her. I have a terrible jealousy for anyone who touches her, anyone who could possibly stake any claim on her. It's why I made her separate herself from Weasley, so that she could only be mine, and she is. I've embedded myself deep into her psyche, I satisfy a dark need of hers, one I take advantage of, night after night.

I don't call her by her real name. It's an unspoken agreement between us, but I demand she calls me by my given name. I still call her by the false name she gave me when we first met, Roxanne. And every night, I make her scream my name.

Draco

_ROXANNE!_

For those of us who don't speak spanish (myself included) here's a translation of the spanish part... not sure how accurate it is since it's from a website but, if you speak spanish and can give me a better translation, this hapless _Gringa_ would very much appreciate it.

_And I who love you so much; what am I going to do? _

_You left me...you left me like a dove _

_My soul has left me; my heart has left me _

_I no longer wish to live because I cannot convince you _

_Not to sell yourself, Roxanne. _

* * *

So the story behind the title is kind of strange. You would really have to understand the essence of a tango. How it tells a story of love and lust, hatred and betrayal, depending on who is dancing. Each set of partners will have a different story to tell. In the movie _Moulin Rouge _the song _El Tango de Roxanne_ tells the story of a man's love for a prostitute who eventually betrays him. It is the Argentinean man (whose name I can't remember at this moment) narrating the story of Christian and Satine's love. Their initial lust, then the man's love for a woman who uses him like a tool. In this story, Hermione's Tango is about a man, Ron, who loves her, and she him. But while Ron hold's her heart, Draco holds her body in his clutches. It is a tango about the love of one man for a prostitute, and the possessiveness and jealousy of another man for the same woman.

Kind of strange huh? Maybe you don't follow? For some reason when I put it in words it sounds stupid.

* * *

Constructive Criticism? Yes please! I typed this up kind of fast, so I'm sure there's a few spelling errors that I missed in my rush, or grammar errors, lots of those. Or, well, anything really. If it's confusing, or strange, or the voice comes out strange let me know and I'll do my damndest to fix it.

And of course, expressions of adoration and happiness are always much appreciated!

But, no flames. really, because that's just insulting yourself to pointlessly rant about the stupidity of some strangers writing? If you don't like it, feel free to either leave me constructive criticism or don't review at all. Thanks so much!

Until next time (which should be soon),

Bri


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